Skinwalker
by vacant houses
Summary: The turtles are hunted by a creature beyond their comprehension.
1. Hunting grounds

TMNT=Not mine.

My thanks to Kameterra for betaing this fic.

* * *

The crow could taste power.

It landed on the Statue of Liberty, claws clattering against the statue's copper skin. It raised its head to the wind- power, raw and pure energy had burst forth here; the ley lines had been ripped open and the reality itself had been altered.

But that wasn't the power it sough; the earth's power had long ago ceased to interest it. It required too much effort to crack open ley lines to scrape at the energy inside. Like cracking open a coconut, such an endeavour required tools, and those tools were well out of the creature's league.

No, the power it sought was different, stronger than anything the earth could have to offer. The city was permeated with it, ancient reptilian energy that haloed the buildings in ethereal light.

The bird let out a caw as it surveyed the sprawling metropolis; it would take time and effort to track down the sources hidden within the smog of energy. But time it had in spades, and it would find them, eventually.


	2. A Murder of Crows

TMNT=Not mine.

My thanks to Kameterra for betaing this fic.

* * *

The city stank.

With a displeased screech, it landed gently on a light pole. For a long moment, it endured the humdrum of humanity, the roar of cars, the murmur of a thousand voices. Music poured out from the numerous buildings. So much noise.

Too much noise.

It watched and waited.

This late at night, the crowds weren't as thick as they were in the daytime, but they were still there. It blindly peered into the dark gloom, blinking as ghost eyes opened to compensate for its lack of vision. Through a hazy veil of grey, it watched the humans drift past, blissfully unaware, so caught up in their own lives; they were oblivious of the worlds that bordered so close on their own.

So blind.

It smiled inwardly; their ignorance was astounding but useful. The creatures that haunted the metropolis beneath their noses were gods almost. Humans had so long ago turned away from the old ways; their powers would be his alone.

Ah.

A woman drifted by herself into a lone alleyway. It launched himself off the pole and glided after her.

It didn't know what made her turn, maybe some half forgotten instinct that warned her of danger.

Her face, small and delicate, twisted in confusion- not fear, no; humans lacked the survival instincts to recognise what it was. Her mouth opened, but before she could utter a sound, its claws raked across her arm, securing themselves into her flesh.

Then it drove its beak into her soft, unprotected neck and ripped out her throat.

* * *

Darkness.

He stood alone in a vaguely familiar alley way, muscles tensed, ready for battle. He'd run as fast as he could but he hadn't managed to shake the creature chasing him. Behind him, he could hear the battle cries of his brother as he fought his own pursuer.

He was alone and that thing had cornered him.

Red eyes peered down from the light pole beside the alley's entrance. Darkness seeped down the pole, smothering its light, plunging him into the blackness of night. The thing tensed and he knew it was about to launch itself at him.

"Run."

On his shoulder, a large black crow stared at him.

"What?" he asked dumbly.

How the hell had the bird snuck up on him? Ninjas don't get snuck up on, they do the sneaking!

The crow turned and he followed its line of sight to his pursuer, coiled and ready. "Run."

"What?" He was officially crazy- the bird was talking to him.

It opened its beak again to speak again but a strange static had fallen on his ears. "Mikey," it said, in a voice that sounded a lot like Don's. "Mikey wake up."

"What?"

"Mikey," Don sighed as he settled on one of their beaten couches. "You're drooling on the cushions. Again."

The aforementioned turtle bolted straight up, giving his older brother a wide-eyed, confused glance. "I'm awake," he said, realising he had fallen asleep watching TV and there were no shadow creatures trying to kill him. "And not drooling on the cushions at all. Nuh-huh. That would be gross. And Master Splinter would make me clean the cushions. Cause of the drool. Which isn't there because I wasn't drooling on the cushions."

Don raised an eye-ridge. "Of course you weren't," he replied soothingly as he flipped channels to the news. "That's why you didn't say anything when I asked if you wanted some leftover pancakes."

Mikey brightened considerably. "We have pancakes. Really? Who made them?"

His older brother shrugged dismissively. "There was a packet mix in the pantry. I felt like whipping some up."

The orange clad turtle frowned, studying his brother closely. There were deep rings under his eyes; there were deep rings under all their eyes lately in fact. Of course, because his brothers were all _older_ than him and _incredibly mature_ and other boring things, they weren't about to come out and admit to something as silly as nightmares.

He shuddered as flashes of his dream came back to him. First, the freaky attack on the woman (ripping out her throat, ergh, that's so gross!), then the crow on his shoulder, telling him to run as he was stalked by a red eyed monster.

It wasn't anything worse than one of his many horror movies. But something about the nightmare seemed real; he knew that the creature chasing him was dangerous and that he needed to get away. The fear was still coursing through his veins, he wanted nothing more than to gather his family up and run.

Run as far away as they possibly could.

Another planet sounded fine.

"Packet mix," Mikey deadpanned, forcing his mind away from strange dreams and back to safe reality. "All that work in your lab with your strange chemicals and fumes has clearly killed your tastebuds if you think packet mixes are acceptable substitutes for food."

Don snorted with amusement but turned his attention to the news report. Mikey climbed to his feet as he resigned himself to cereal for breakfast.

Then he froze.

The news report was covering the mysterious murder of a young woman. On the TV screen, it displayed a photo of the victim.

A face flashed in his mind, a look of confusion as she opened her mouth to speak. Then, the taste of warm blood as he bit out her throat.

Reality spun away from him as he stared at the woman from his dreams.


End file.
